Wednesday, January 11, 2012

On rain, bad luggage, and why it matters how you wear your pants.

So this morning, my commute to work was very interesting. First, it was raining, which sucked, but I had already resigned myself to that. So I put on my headphones, because music makes bearable even the most miserable journey. But I heard only an echo of what should have been music. The headphones were kaput. They had a long, full life but that didn't make me feel any better. A soggy trek without headphones really sucks. But you know, I'm no hothouse flower. I can take it!

I got about a block and a half and then a wheel suddenly busted on my very heavy pull-along bag, which I just bought about a month ago. (In-line skate wheels, my ass.)

Well, that slowed things down considerably. Even though the pull-along did the best it could with its one remaining wheel, I wasn't exactly walking anymore. It was more like step-drag-step-drag. And me, headed toward the Capitol! It's pretty hard to impress a state senator when you're walking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I figured I'd better head first to my office and unload.

Did I mention that it was raining?

Finally I made it to the bus stop. There are actually three bus stops within a half-block of each other, with three perfectly good buses that come in quick succeession. I never worry about missing a bus, because if I do, I can just proceed a half-block to the next stop. No problemo.

Alas, I missed the first two buses, although I was within seconds each time. Then I saw the third bus coming and decided this was the one. I rushed on, leaving a trail of sparks behind me as I dragged that stupid bag along the cement. Yes! I made it, just barely!

And then the driver sped right past me, the insensitive prick, and there wasn't going to be another bus for at least a half an hour.

It was raining, you know.

So that's when I said, fuck this bullshit. I went to the Starbucks across the street (sorry, Caribou, you're just too far) and got myself a venti skinny caramel latte. This helped, especially since it was served up by somebody in the rooms. So fortified, I looked up when the next bus was coming, and caught it with no problem. And I even made it to the office on time. How about that!

Anyway, here's the point. A few hours later I went to the bathroom and made an important discovery: I had my pants on backwards. I'd been wearing them bass-ackwards all day long. This explained everything! It explained why my pants were suddenly too short. And why the pockets kept trying to point backwards. And why they felt tight in the ass.

And you know what? I think those backwards pants explain the whole damn morning. Because once I put them on right, the day just smoothed itself right out.